


Buffet

by sshomoerotica



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalistic Thoughts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sshomoerotica/pseuds/sshomoerotica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will spread across Hannibal's table. Just a taste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buffet

Hannibal has Will spread naked across his dining room table; Hannibal devoid of his blazer, tie immaculate, vest smooth, hair gently disheveled, mouth left gently pink and wet from earlier use. 

Will is flushed down his neck and between his pectorals with blooming bruises; tiny footsteps following the line of his throat and two fading greenish smudges about each nipple. There are two matching splotches on each hip nob, spots that Hannibal focuses on intermittently as he swallows around William’s cock.

Will pants and gasps, bare breathy noises with no true sound as Hannibal crooks two expert fingers up inside Will’s tight heat, slick with saliva. Hannibal tongues the underside of Will’s cock, and the taste of it makes him fantasize about what Will will taste like when the time finally comes. To perform fellatio is a taste without a kill — the essence of Will, boiled down to warm, smooth skin and curling pubic hair and the pure, heady smell of him. It is the one way Hannibal can have Will without destroying him, and when Will finally comes undone in Hannibal’s mouth, the explosion of flavor is unmistakably William Graham; it goes to Hannibal’s groin in a pulsing wave. He closes his eyes and savors it — tastes the semen and the musk of flesh together, and when he pulls back he licks his fingers that pull from inside. 

Will’s pupils are dilated and staring blankly at the ceiling through foggy, skewed glasses. His cheeks are hot red and his chest moves erratically. Hannibal wipes the back of his mouth and takes in the image of William spread across his dining room table. He flips through his mental rolodex of recipes, trying to imagine the feast that will be William Graham, FBI empathy consultant, introverted and sleep deprived, tight-rope-walking the thin line between a breakdown of reality and psychosis. 

He will distill William into stocks and beer; he will use Will in bits and sparing pieces, so that he will take a good, long while to eat the entirety of this patient turned friend turned sexual encounter. A play on turtle soup, perhaps, as William has been his turtle, coaxed free into the sunshine. Maybe magiritsa; something truly ironic that Will would appreciate if he came across it at a crime scene, a dish that would make his lips curl up and his eyes darken with a mix of awe and glee and terror. Hannibal would save the heart and brain for last, as they are his favorite parts of Will, and they would best be served at their simplest. Brain fritters, maybe, and a heart omelet, to remind Hannibal of the first thing he ever fed to poor, naïve Will.

Hannibal wipes the saliva from his fingers against the inside of Will’s knee, smiles in the way he finds himself capable of only around this profiler, and Will makes eye contact as he smiles back, and Hannibal ponders a martini with one of those captivating eyeballs floating within, skewered, and garnished with a slice of lemon.

**Author's Note:**

> Magiritsa: A dish [prepared of lamb offal] eaten in order to commemorate the breaking of the Greek Orthodox Lent.


End file.
